


Roses Among Thorns

by MaxBetta



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-07-30 01:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16276220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxBetta/pseuds/MaxBetta
Summary: When her cleaning business doesn’t do as well as she had hoped, Sansa Stark decides to look elsewhere for steady employment.  After responding to an ad for a housekeeping position, she interviews with reclusive millionaire Sandor Clegane. Working at Clegane Manor would be the ideal job, if only her boss weren’t so irritable.





	1. Chapter 1

It was just after 3am, and sleep would not be coming any time soon. Sansa stared at the ceiling from her bed, too exhausted to even cry. One year ago, after years of working for other cleaning companies, she had taken the leap and started her own cleaning business. Things went well for the first few weeks, but soon after the jobs were fewer and fewer, until eventually the phone hardly rang at all. Her competitors had teams of people who could make a house sparkle in just one hour. There was no way she could compete with that. She was only one woman. She couldn’t afford to pay herself, there was no way she would be able to pay anyone else.

 

She held out for as long as she could, but her next move was clear. After coming home to a mailbox full of bills she could not pay, Sansa decided that she would begin looking for a new job later in the morning. Maybe she would find something that paid enough to get her out of the garbage apartment complex she was living in. Perhaps if she worked hard and saved, she could someday afford her dream home, a small country cottage with a sprawling garden full of roses.

 

At 6am, Sansa’s upstairs neighbors began stomping around, as usual. Muttering under her breath, she decided to get up and start her job search early. After making a cup of steaming hot tea, she sat at her little corner desk and scrolled through online job listings on her laptop. There were a few that caught her eye, but most of them required a level of education or experience that was above what she could offer. Scrolling further, she stopped when she came across an ad in big bold letters:

 

**HOUSEKEEPER WANTED**

**Must have experience**

**Weekly pay & benefits**

**Apply in person**

**20 Church St.**

**Norwich, VT**

 

Weekly pay, that would be nice. And benefits! Sansa couldn’t remember the last time she had seen a doctor or a dentist. Without insurance, she couldn’t afford either. Quickly, she jotted down the address on a slip of paper. Perhaps there was hope after all. If the job worked out, she might be able to pay all of her overdue bills and start saving toward her dream home. Sansa gulped down the last of her tea, and then went into the bathroom for a shower. Afterwards, she picked out her most professional looking outfit and twisted her auburn locks up into a tight bun. After printing off a copy of her resume and sticking the address in her purse, she went downstairs and waited at the bus stop in front of her apartment building. It was 7:05am. If she boarded the next bus, it would get her to Church St. by 8am. She would probably be the first person there. Maybe she’d get lucky and they would hire her on the spot!

After a 45-minute bus ride to the other side of town, Sansa exited the bus at the corner of Church St. and Main. Brushing herself off, she checked the house number once again to figure out which direction she should be walking in. In front of her, there was a large elementary school with a parking lot full of parents dropping of their children. The address of the school was 22 Church St., so the other place should be right next door. Taking a few steps further down the sidewalk, she found herself standing in front of 20 Church St. The large arch above the driveway touted the name of the house, “Clegane Manor.”

 

The Clegane family was well known in the town of Norwich. The only surviving member who still lived in the house was the youngest son, Sandor. Nobody had seen him for years. Rumor was that he was terrifying, often growling at children who dared step onto his property. Sansa gulped. There was a black intercom box with a small red button next to the gate. She pressed and waited. There was some grumbling and a slew of crackling noises. Finally, someone answered.

 

“What?!”

 

The sharp tone made her flinch. “Um, hello, my name is Sansa Stark. I’m here to apply for the housekeeping position.”

 

There was more static and grumbling. “It’s too early for that. You should have come later in the day.”

 

Sansa was confused. “The ad didn’t specify a time.”

 

“I know what the bloody ad said and didn’t say.” His outburst was followed by almost a full minute of silence before he spoke again. “Come in, if you must.”

 

There was a loud buzzing sound and the black iron gates swung open. Sansa hurried through and shuffled down the walkway to the front door. She was about to knock when the door swung open with great force. Standing before her was a miserable monster of a man. He was so tall that the door frame barely contained his height. He had broad shoulders, like a football player, and long black hair. The left side of his face was mottled with pink scar tissue. His eyes were dark and furious. Sansa didn’t know what to say. Unfortunately for her, he noticed.

 

“Cat got your tongue? What’s the matter, not sure if you could handle seeing this horrible face every day?” He pointed aggressively at his scars.

 

Sansa was insulted by his remark. “Actually, I was going to ask you when I could start.” A grin of satisfaction grew on her face when she realized that her reply had surprised him.

 

He huffed. “First things first, I need to interview you. Come in. Sit here.” He snatched her resume from her hands and gestured toward a large green velour upholstered couch that was just inside the front door. Sansa tried not to look intimidated and sat as he shut the door. There was a chandelier hanging from the foyer ceiling that probably cost more than Sansa could make in ten years. He crossed the marble floor and sank into a large wingback chair that was across from her. “I’m not going to offer you tea and cakes and whatnot, this is business.”

Sansa nodded, trying her best to keep her hands on her knees instead of fidgeting with them. She hadn’t been this nervous in years.

 

“I see here that you have experience with house cleaning. The person I hire would have to do laundry and a bit of cooking as well. Could you handle that?”

 

“Yes.” She purposely kept her answer brief so as to avoid stammering.

 

“The pay would be $800 per week, and you would have two weeks vacation per year as well as health and dental insurance. Does that sound suitable?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He scowled at her. “Do you say anything other than ‘yes’?”

 

“Of course, I was only being brief. I’m sure you are a busy man. I didn't want to take up too much of your time.”

 

He nodded, took another glance at her resume, then back at her. “You’re hired. See if you can manage making me a decent breakfast. Kitchen is through there.” He pointed to a set of French doors.

 

Sansa was overjoyed at getting the job. Finally, she would be able to start taking care of some of her debt, and maybe even save a bit toward her future. But first, she was going to have to survive her daily interactions with the grumpiest man she’d ever met.


	2. Chapter 2

Sansa’s first day at Clegane Manor went by in a blur. Standing in the kitchen, reviewing her handwritten list of tasks for the day, she reflected back on how strange her current predicament was. The Clegane family history was not a good one. Mr. and Mrs. Clegane, Sandor’s parents, had been killed in a car accident when he was only fifteen. They had been wealthy due to a string of wise investments, and upon their death, their fortune was set to be split between their two sons, Sandor and Gregor. Sandor was too young to touch any of the money, but Gregor was nineteen at the time. Almost the moment the money was deposited into his bank account, it was gone. He had blown millions on gambling, prostitutes, cocaine, heroin, and various other illegal activities. By age 21, he was in jail serving a life sentence for multiple counts of manslaughter as well as possession of illegal drugs. Sandor was seventeen at the time. He wasn’t afraid to be living by himself, he quite enjoyed it. He never visited Gregor in prison. Not even once. He was glad to be rid of him, but in the back of his mind was a sense of unease. It was still possible that one day Gregor would be granted parole. It wasn’t until five years into his life sentence that Gregor’s return was no longer a fear. He was attacked by a group of rival thugs and beaten to death in the shower.

 

To his surprise, Sandor shed a tear at the news. He wasn’t sad over the loss of his brother. He was mourning the brother that he never had. He would never forget the night that a drunk and high Gregor demanded money from him. When he refused, the bastard pressed his face into the fireplace of their shared living room. If Gregor hadn’t passed out from being under the influence of a dangerous cocktail of substances, he never would have let him back up again. Sandor was convinced that he would not have survived that night otherwise.

 

As a result of Gregor’s death, all of the remaining fortune, including the house, belonged to Sandor alone. Although the home was structurally sound, the curb appeal was lacking. All of the outdoor landscaping was either dead or overgrown. The brick hadn’t been pressure washed in years, evidenced by the green algae that crept along the surface. Inside, with the exception of the foyer, the place was messy and cluttered. There were no dirty pots or pans or dishes, simply because Sandor didn’t use any. Dozens of empty pizza boxes littered the kitchen table, as well as empty Chinese food containers. He didn’t have people over often, if ever. Sansa was sure of it.

 

Her first task that morning had been to make him breakfast. She went with the first thing that came to mind, bacon and eggs. Half an hour later, she presented him with his meal and a hot cup of coffee as he sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. He lowered the paper enough to give her a brief nod, and then went back to reading. Sansa returned to the counter to begin tidying up. She could hear the fork and knife scraping on the plate as he ate. The sound typically would irritate her, but at the moment it was evidence that she had successfully completed her first task.

 

When he was done eating, she cleared his plate and got to work on the rest of the cleanup. Thinking about all that needed to be done throughout the entire mansion was overwhelming, so she decided to just take it one room at a time. Grabbing an empty black garbage bag, she tossed all of the pizza boxes and food containers. It took three bags just for those items alone! He was the stereotypical messy bachelor. There weren’t any cleaning supplies besides a mop and a rag, so Sansa scrubbed the counters and mopped the floor with a simple solution of dish soap and water. Within just a couple of hours, the kitchen looked completely different. The counters and floor both gleamed, and the room itself smelled like lemons. Sandor didn’t say much, but he’d pop his head in occasionally and raise an eyebrow, only to disappear into the living room again. He spent most of his time in there either reading or watching television.

Around noon, Sansa checked the tags on the curtains that were hanging in the kitchen. To her delight, they were machine washable. She took them all down and set them to washing, then washed the windows with more soapy water. By the time she was done washing the windows, it was past time for lunch. There really wasn’t much in the fridge, just more bacon and eggs and an expired jug of milk. She checked in with Sandor in order to get grocery money and then walked up the street to a small family-owned market. She loaded the cart with fresh fruits and vegetables, plenty of meat and poultry, and a few snacks that Sandor could eat if he were ever hungry at a time when Sansa wasn’t there to cook for him. To her surprise, Sandor was waiting for her at the checkout counter.

 

“W-what are you doing here?”

 

He nodded toward the groceries on the belt. “Did you really think you could carry all that by yourself?”

 

Sansa blushed, embarrassed. “I didn’t think about it.”

 

His hands in his pockets, he nodded and watched as the cashier scanned and weighed everything. There were six grocery bags in total. Sandor insisted on taking four, which meant that Sansa would only have to carry two. The help from him was rather unexpected. He was known for being a recluse who rarely left his property. Sansa wondered what had gotten into him that made him leave the house. He was, by all accounts, a peculiar man.

 

When they got back to the house, Sansa put the groceries away, showing Sandor the snacks she’d gotten for him as she put them in the pantry. Once everything was put away and in order, Sansa made them each a tuna sandwich with a side of potato chips. Sansa was going to eat hers at the counter, but Sandor insisted that she sit at the table with him. It was an odd situation for her. She had never been anyone’s personal housekeeper before. She didn’t know what was and wasn’t appropriate. As they ate lunch, a bit of light conversation ensued. Sandor asked her a few questions about her life, likes and dislikes, that sort of thing. At one point, they spoke of the outdoor landscaping being a mess. Sansa suggested that Sandor hire a professional to clean it up, and that a row of rose bushes would bring a bit of color to the place.

 

After lunch, Sansa cleaned up, wiping down the counters and loading and running the dishwasher. She would make his dinner, a steak with mashed potatoes and a salad, right before she needed to leave. That was another issue. Sansa had no idea what time she was expected to arrive and what time she should go home. The idea of home brought her a pang of sadness. It was almost cruel, that she would spend her days in a gorgeous mansion, only to return to an unkempt, roach-infested apartment building at night. It was a painful dose of reality.

 

When the curtains were dry, Sansa went from window to window putting them back up. She wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the curtain rods, so she had to stand on one of the kitchen chairs. At one point, Sandor came by and assisted her, lifting one end of the rod so that she would only have to worry about her end.   His helpfulness was brief and unexpected, and just as quickly as he arrived at her side, he would disappear. Once the curtains were all hung, Sansa got started on a side table that was in the large kitchen. It was covered with outdated mail and magazines. She made a pile of things that looked important, and everything else was put into a bag to be shredded later. While sorting, she came across several envelopes, all from the same sender, “Marble Valley Regional Correctional Facility.” A warmth spread to her face. She’d heard stories about what Sandor’s brother Gregor had done. He’d been a monster. It made the local news the day that he had been killed in prison. As she looked at the backs of the envelopes, Sansa noticed that they were all unopened. Could they be letters from when he was alive? Looking at the staggering pile, she deemed it best to ask Sandor what he wanted done with them. She found him sitting in the living room watching TV, as usual. The back of his head faced her.

 

“Excuse me, Sandor? There are a bunch of envelopes from the prison in Rutland, wha…”

 

He interrupted her before she could finish. “Shred them. Shred them all. I don’t ever want to see them again.” He didn’t even turn around.

 

Sensing a harsh tone in his voice, Sansa complied. The junk mail and the prison letters were all shredded and then disposed of in large garbage bags. It was almost 5pm, so Sansa made quick work of cooking Sandor’s steak to a perfect medium rare, prepping the salad and whipping up a large pot of mashed potatoes. She told him the food was ready, and then gathered her things to leave. He was surprised to see that there wasn’t a place set for her at the table.

 

“Are you not going to stay for dinner?”

 

Sansa zipped up her coat “No, it’s been a long day, I need to get home. What time would you like me here tomorrow?”

 

He looked at the floor and mumbled before raising his chin and giving her a clear, “8am.”

 

Sansa nodded in agreement and let herself out. The bus ride home was a lot more relaxing this time around. She had gotten herself a job, one that gave her a paycheck she could actually live on. In a couple of weeks, she might even be able to start looking for a better apartment. Things had been difficult for so long. It was a relief to see that there was light at the end of the seemingly endless tunnel.


	3. Chapter 3

Three weeks after accepting the position of housekeeper for Sandor Clegane, Sansa was swelling with pride over how different Clegane Manor was looking. The metal gates had been repainted, the walkways and facade were thoroughly cleaned, and the bushes and flower beds were rehabilitated with the help of a local landscaper. The inside was no longer just storage space for empty pizza boxes. Every morning when Sansa would arrive, the first thing she would do is go through each room and open the curtains. The windows were clean and unobstructed, no longer covered on the outside with dense ivy. Yes, letting a little sunlight into Sandor’s world was definitely step one. Step two was breakfast. He had grown quite fond of her bacon and fried eggs. She’d offered to make him other things, but he wanted the same meal every morning, so that was what he was given.

 

Sandor had changed quite a bit over the past few weeks as well. He was more chatty, and sometimes would ask Sansa questions, like what she thought of certain things. She would tell him about her dream home, a comfortable house with a huge rose garden that she could stare at whenever she liked. Occasionally they would even get into very personal things, like past relationships and family members. Sandor revealed that he hadn’t dated anyone in years. Sansa shared with him that her last relationship had ended nearly a year before. Her ex had left during the day while she was out cleaning houses, stealing all of the furniture and sticking her with a monthly rent payment that she couldn’t afford. Sandor had grimaced at that story as she told him the details.

 

Sandor had changed in other ways, too. He was no longer keeping himself prisoner in his own home. He would go out occasionally, usually to meet with an accountant or some other form of financial advisor. Sometimes he would stop by the store on the way home if Sansa needed anything. It wasn’t partying or socializing with strangers, but it was progress.

 

One morning, when breakfast was finished and the dishes were dealt with, Sansa had decided she would work in the living room. The piles of paper clutter and empty food containers were gone, but the bookshelves were chaotic and unorganized, and the mantle above the fireplace was in terrible need of a dusting. Sandor excused himself after breakfast saying that he needed to be at a meeting, so Sansa got to work right away as soon as he was gone.

 

She had seen photos online and in magazines of bookcases that were sorted by color, so she decided to give that a try. It took almost two hours, but the finished result looked nice in a room that was so lacking in character. She washed the throw blankets and pillows, and vacuumed the curtains. When she got to the mantle, there wasn’t much to move before dusting. Sandor had a small collection of metal helmets, like the kind that knights wore long ago. Evidently the Clegane family had a history of service to royalty. With a damp rag, Sansa wiped down the mantle thoroughly, and then replaced the helmets.

 

Looking down, she noticed that the fireplace was covered loosely with a large piece of plywood. She moved the wood aside and saw that everything looked in order and fully functional. It was a chilly day out, the perfect kind of weather to have a nice fire going. Sansa went outside and couldn't find any stored firewood, so she collected a few fallen branches that could easily be broken into smaller pieces. She piled them onto the rack in the fireplace and then stuffed some crumpled newspaper underneath. Unable to find any matches, she grabbed a matchbook from her purse and lit the paper underneath the wood. Within a minute or two, there was a beautiful fire warming the room and adding a cozy glow to her surroundings. Sansa smiled to herself and then moved on to her next task.  She was halfway through vacuuming the carpet when Sandor returned from his outing. She turned off the vacuum to greet him. He stepped into the doorway of the living room and froze. He looked fearful at first, then angry. Without saying a word, he walked into the kitchen, filled a large pot with cold water, then came back into the living room and poured the water over the fire, effectively putting it out.

 

Sansa was aghast. “Why are you so upset? Why did you do that?”

 

He spun around to face her. “Why?” He pointed at the scarred side of his face. “Why?! This is why!”

 

Sansa didn’t know what to say or do. She knew his face had been burned, and that his older brother was involved somehow, but she didn’t know that it had happened there in the fireplace.

 

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

 

Sandor was breathing heavily. Empty pot still in his hand, he looked down at the floor. “It was covered for a reason. Don’t ever build a fire in my home again.” He walked into the kitchen and dumped the pot into the sink, then went into his office and slammed door.

 

Sansa was shaken. She’d never seen him react in such a way before. Clearly there wouldn’t be any more small talk that afternoon. No, she decided it would be best to keep quiet and give him his space. Doing the laundry would keep her occupied and out of his hair for a few hours. She grabbed an empty basket from the laundry room and went upstairs to collect everything that needed to be washed. She retrieved all of the towels from the bathroom and sheets from the bedroom. Next up was Sandor’s dirty clothes. She went into his enormous walk-in closet and found the usual pile of shirts and jeans. She squatted down in order to save herself some back pain. As she was tossing items into her basket, she noticed a small wooden box on the floor up against the wall. The lid was open. It must have fallen from one of the upper shelves. Just as she picked up the box, Sandor arrived in the doorway of his closet. He saw her squatting on the floor, open box in hand, and his face went red. It took a moment for Sansa to realize what it must have looked like to him.

 

“Oh! I was just putting this back for you.”

 

He bristled. “You were just helping yourself to my mother’s jewelry.”

 

Sansa was both hurt and offended. “No! No, I wouldn’t never do such a thing! I didn't even know what was in…”

 

“I hire you and you steal from me?”

 

“Would you listen? It really isn’t…”

 

“Get out.” He didn’t scream or yell, he just growled. “Get. Out.”

 

Sansa couldn’t believe what was happening. She did as she was told, leaving the box and the laundry and getting herself out of there. She grabbed her purse and her coat as quickly as she could, and left the key he’d had made for her on the demilune table by the front door. She ran down the front steps and through the gate as quickly as her legs could carry her. She made it to the bus stop in record time. It gave her a sense of relief when, through vision blurred by tears, she could see the next bus coming up the road. In less than a minute, she would be away from him and on her way home.

 

Sandor was almost hyperventilating. There was a reason he never got close to people. They would let him down, one way or another. As he gathered the wooden box of his mother’s jewelry, there was a sorrowful ache in his chest. Sansa had turned his home into a place he actually enjoyed living in. She had been nice company, too. Easy to talk to, and even easier to listen to. As he secured the lid back onto the top of the box, he looked up at the shelf above where his shirts were hanging. There was a crystal vase lying on its side instead of standing straight up. Sandor remembered that the jewelry box had been on the shelf in front of the vase...the vase falling over must have knocked it off the shelf.

Sansa had been telling the truth.

 

_What have I done?_


	4. Chapter 4

It had been almost two hours since Sandor had accused Sansa of stealing and kicked her out of his home. He sat in his armchair, stewing. He’d made a mistake. A huge, seemingly unforgivable mistake. He had called and texted Sansa at least two dozen times since she’d left. She didn’t answer any of his calls, or respond to any of the text messages. Looking out the window, seeing the thunder clouds looming, he decided on his next course of action. He was going to have to apologize, and he was going to have to do it in person. He rushed into his office and sifted through the mountain of papers on his desk. It took a few minutes of sorting through all the clutter, but he finally found what he had been looking for. Sansa Stark’s home address.

He threw on a rain jacket, zipping it up as he walked toward his car. The rain was coming down in buckets the whole drive across town, making the trip take even longer. After almost an hour of avoiding puddles and two wrong turns, he finally made it. Pulling into the parking lot of Belle Baelish apartments, Sandor realized he hadn’t expected her to be living somewhere so...affordable. There were large sections of the building in need of paint, and several broken windows could be seen from below. After a haphazard parking job, Sandor entered the building and went for the elevator. There was a sign on the closed doors that said, “Out Of Order.” _Oh for fuck’s sake._

He quickly located the stairwell and started the journey upward, taking two, sometimes three stairs at a time. As soon as he reached the 8th floor, he entered the hallway in search of Sansa’s door. The hall smelled like mildew, and the carpet looked to be at least thirty years old, stained and ragged. He continued searching until he came upon apartment 8D. He hesitated at first, but finally gave the door a hearty knock. Within seconds, a puffy-faced Sansa opened. Here eyes were pink and there was a balled up tissue in her free hand. She had been crying. Her eyes nearly doubled in size, though, when she saw who had knocked.

 

Sandor needed to apologize, but first things first.

 

“What are you doing, opening the door like that without asking who it is first? What if I were a thief or a killer?”

 

Sansa sniffled and blotted at her nose with the tissue. “Did you come all this way to yell at me?”

 

He exhaled loudly and looked down at his feet. “No. I came because you wouldn’t answer your phone. I was trying to call and tell you that...I made a mistake. It wasn’t your fault. I was still mad about the thing with my brother, and I just assumed the worst.”

 

Sansa wiped at her face again with the tissue and managed to croak out an, “Okay.”

 

Sandor stuffed his hands into his pockets. This was going to be the hard part. He looked her in the face, trying not to be distracted by the tears that continued to fall. “I shouldn’t have done what I did. And, truth is, I’d like you to come back to work. For me. At my house. Like before.”

 

Sansa was flabbergasted. That was about the closest thing to an apology that Sandor Clegane was capable of. His words were so unexpected, she didn’t know how to respond. “I-I don’t know.”

 

Sandor seemed desperate. “I can give you a raise. If that would help.”

 

“A raise would be wonderful, but how do I know that this won’t happen again? I thought you knew me, that we had a great working relationship, but I guess we didn’t.”

 

Sandor huffed in frustration. “Look, I don’t do relationships. Now, I hired you as my housekeeper, and you did a good job. I’m asking you to do that again.”

 

Sansa’s heart sank a bit. She thought she had been getting through to him as they spent time together, but apparently she was wrong. Still, the job did pay well.

 

“Alright. I’ll come back. Tomorrow.”

 

Sandor looked relieved, then anxious. “Uh, could I use your bathroom. I really need to go.”

“Oh, uh, now isn’t a good time. I just…” She wasn’t done speaking when Sandor pushed the door open wider, taking a long look at her living space. It was clutter-free, except for a small pile of tissues on the coffee table. The apartment itself, however, was in horrific condition. The ceiling was covered in brown stains from water damage. In the center of the living room, there was a mixing bowl catching drips from the ceiling. Next to the refrigerator, he could see a large rat trap, poised and ready. The vinyl floors in the kitchen were worn and peeling, and the kitchen window was broken. There was a wall unit air conditioner, not currently in use, but below it were splotches of black on the wall, no doubt some type of mold. The space itself was cold, as if the heat weren't working. He now understood why Sansa had answered the door with a blanket wrapped around herself.

 

Sandor took a deep breath into his chest. For the first time in his entire life, he felt sorry for someone other than himself.

 

“Pack what you need, you’re moving in with me.”

 

Sansa was shocked. “What? You can’t just ask me to move in with you.”

 

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. You’re not staying here another minute longer than you need to. Pack what you can. I’m going to speak with the landlord. As soon as I get back, we’re leaving.”

 

Sandor took the stairs down to the bottom floor. Fuming with disgust, he pounded on the office door.  A thin, delicate looking man answered. His dark hair was grey at the temples, and his voice was soft, yet unnerving.

 

“Yes, what can I do for you?”

 

“The renter in apartment 8D is moving out. If that’s a problem, you’ll talk to me about it.”

 

Mr. Baelish stroked the hair on his chin. “Well, let’s see. Come in, have a seat, I’ll take a look at my records.”

 

Sandor sat in a small, uncomfortable chair across from the landlord’s desk. He was waiting for any excuse the punch the man’s lights out.

 

“Oh yes, I see. 8D, that’s Miss Sansa Stark, correct?”

 

“Correct.”

 

“Yes, well, I’m afraid there’s a problem. You see, Miss Stark renewed her annual lease just three months ago. She’ll need to wait another nine months before moving out is a possibility.”

 

Sandor bolted from the chair, leaned over the desk, grabbed Baelish by the front of his shirt, and pulled him forward so that they were face to face.

“If you don’t leave her be, you’re going to have a lot more than a lease broken.”

 

Baelish laughed nervously. “O-of course. I’ll just dispose of this.” Sandor set him down. He picked up the lease from his desk and tore it into several pieces. “You do understand, sir, that I could call the police and have you arrested for assault.”

 

Sandor’s eyes were daggers. “Do you really think I’m afraid of a cunt like you?” Baelish was trying to appear calm, but he was clearly uncomfortable. “As for this little incident. I’d keep quiet if I were you. It would be a pity if the health department were to stop by for a random inspection.” Baelish nodded and Sandor let himself out.

 

By the time he returned to Sansa’s apartment, she had two duffel bags packed and ready to go. He insisted on carrying them both.

 

“I’ve got them. Let’s go.”

 

Sansa was unsure. “Just like that? What about the landlord? What about the lease? What about the rest of my things?”

 

Sandor reached out and put his hand on one of her shoulders. “I'll take care of everything. Just like that.”

 

Sansa smiled, and they both descended the stairs down to the parking lot. Sansa was nervous getting into the car. She’d been to Clegane Manor several times over the past few weeks, but only because she worked there. Today, it would become the place that she would call home.


	5. Chapter 5

The day after Sansa moved out of her apartment, Sandor sent a crew to gather her remaining belongings and clean the place up. He even paid extra to replace any broken windows and fix the heater. It couldn’t hurt. He had the money, and maybe a little extra attention would keep Baelish’s mouth shut.

 

In the weeks that followed Sansa’s moving in, she and Sandor had slipped into a comfortable rhythm with one another. They ate breakfast and dinner together every day, always at home and always cooked by Sansa. Sandor didn’t care for eating out at restaurants much due to people often staring at him. Between his size and the scars on his face, he was quite the spectacle. During the day, the two of them would each do their own thing, Sansa usually running errands and Sandor typically lounged around except for the occasional meeting. That was, until recently, when Sansa came downstairs one morning to find that the sliding glass doors attached to the kitchen were covered with newspaper, obstructing the view completely.

 

“What’s this?”

 

Sandor was acting strange. “It’s a...project I’m working on. It’s very important that you don’t open those doors, I don’t need you messing about out there and causing problems.”

 

Sansa raised her hands in mock surrender and went about making their breakfast.  Minutes later, as they sat at the table eating their bacon and eggs, Sansa decided to attempt approaching the subject of rent again. She had tried several times over the past few weeks, but Sandor always dismissed the conversation and changed the subject to something else. Sansa didn’t like feeling as if she were a charity case. Perhaps if she tried again, they could reach a compromise.

 

“Um...I know you don’t want to talk about it, but we really need to discuss rent. I’m not comfortable staying here and not paying anything.”

 

Sandor was visibly annoyed. “I don’t want your rent money. Use the money you would have spent on rent for a dress.”

 

“A dress?  What kind of dress?”

 

“A fancy one. I have to go to a fundraiser tonight. It’s for the community. They invite me every year. I usually don’t attend, but I figured you might enjoy a night out. Would you like to go?”

 

Sansa’s face beamed with excitement. She did need a night out. It had been a long time since she’d gotten dressed up for anything. And at no point in her life had she ever been a guest at a fundraiser. “Okay, I’ll go shopping this afternoon.”

 

He nodded and turned his attention back to his plate, but there was a glimmer of something indiscernible behind that face of his.

 

Early in the afternoon, when Sansa had finished all of her household duties, she took the bus downtown to a little boutique that was well-known for their luxurious evening wear. Browsing through the racks, nothing really caught her eye, until she saw a glimpse of green. Pushing the other gowns aside, she was able to get a full-length view. It was an emerald green satin gown, with long lace sleeves and a cutout back.   It was perfect. Checking the price tag, she saw that not only was it a gorgeous dress, but it left her enough money to buy a matching pair of shoes. Perusing the shoe section next, she was drawn to a pair of nude patent pumps. Done.

When Sansa arrived back home at Clegane Manor, Sandor was there. He saw her walk in holding a shoe box and a garment bag.

 

“So. You found a dress. Can I see it?”

 

Sansa refused him, playfully. “I’m sorry, sir, but it’s top secret. You’re just going to have to wait.”

 

“Fine, fine. Well can you at least tell me the color?”

 

“I suppose. It’s dark green.” A hint of a smile played at his lips. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to start getting ready.” Not waiting for any response from him, she hurried up the stairs and into her room, quickly locking the door behind her.

 

An hour and a half later, Sandor was nervously pacing by the front door.  Dressed in a black tuxedo, he called up the stairs to Sansa.

 

“We’re going to be late!” He began fidgeting with his cummerbund when a shimmer of dark green caught his attention. Sansa slowly descended the stairs, taking care not to stumble. She wasn’t used to wearing heels. Usually when she went up or down the staircase, her eyes would scan the artwork on the wall, but that night they found a different target. Sandor had shaved, and he was wearing a sharp tuxedo with a perfectly matching emerald green bow tie. By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, a huge smile had taken over her face.

 

Sandor’s mouth went dry at the sight of her. He had always thought she was beautiful, but tonight she was stunning.

 

“You look...nice.”

 

Sansa chuckled. “Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

 

He extended an arm to her. “Shall we?” She hooked her arm into his, and they headed for the car.

 

Sandor and Sansa arrived at the fundraiser with just a couple of minutes to spare. When they got there, Sandor went straight for the backstage area looking for the emcee. He wanted to get his portion of the evening over and done with as soon as possible so that he could spend the rest of the night relaxing and enjoying Sansa's company. When he finally found the host, he gave him a tap on the shoulder, causing the man to spin around.

 

“I’m Sandor Clegane. I’m participating tonight, but I wanted to know if I could do my presentation at the beginning.”

 

The host looked him up and down, the replied carefully. “Sure, I’ll be getting things going her in a minute. If you want to wait right here behind the curtain, you can be the first one up.”

 

Sandor nodded, and Sansa waited patiently beside him. When the start time came, loud music began blaring and the host walked out from behind the curtain to a podium at center stage. While the host gave his opening remarks, Sandor realized that Sansa was missing out on all the fun by waiting with him.

 

“Why don’t you go on to our table. Have yourself a drink, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

 

Sansa gave a quick, “okay,” before heading out into the main area to find their assigned table. The host finally concluded his opening remarks.

 

“Well, folks, let’s begin, shall we?  Our first guest is none other than Mr. Sandor Clegane. Mr. Clegane, why don’t you come out here and we’ll get this thing started.”

 

The large red stage curtain parted and Sandor walked out onto the stage, meeting the host at the podium and exchanging a handshake.

 

“Now, Mr. Clegane, you’ve come tonight to make your contribution. So, get yourselves ready ladies, because the first item up for bid is a kiss from Sandor Clegane, the richest man in all of Norwich!”

 

Sandor’s eyes widened and he covered the podium microphone with his hand.

 

“What are you talking about? I thought I was just going to present you with a check!”

 

The host was less than concerned. “No, that’s not how we do things here. We do everything auction style. And since you didn’t bring a prize to be auctioned off, the winner gets an experience with you.”

 

Sandor removed his hand from the mic. His eyes searched the crowd for Sansa. She was sitting alone at their table, mouth agape. He shrugged, hoping she would understand that he had no idea.

 

“Alright ladies, I’m going to start the bidding at twenty dollars?  Do I have twenty?”

 

After hearing that a kiss from him would be the prize, Sandor could feel the humiliation in his gut. His biggest fear was that nobody would bid, and so far, his fear was becoming a reality.

 

Sansa looked around at the crowd. There were close to a hundred women, most of whom were either staring down at their glass of champagne or looking off to the side. A few ladies were giggling to one another. How awful.  There was no way that Sansa was going to let Sandor’s night start off like this. She put down her glass of champagne and stood tall.

 

“I bid one thousand dollars!”

 

The crowd gasped. Everyone turned to look at her. For a moment, Sandor had relief in his eyes, but it was quickly followed by sadness.

 

The emcee didn’t miss a beat. “Well now, we’ve got a bid of one thousand dollars to the redhead in the green dress. Going once. Going twice. Sold!” He hit a gavel on the podium. “Come up here, miss, and claim your prize.”

 

The crowd parted as Sansa walked toward the stage. When she finally was standing with Sandor, he leaned in and whispered. “You don’t have to do this.”

 

Sansa realized in that moment that she wasn’t up there because she felt sorry for him. Not really. She had bid because she wanted to kiss him, and because the idea of some other woman’s lips on him was nauseating.

 

“Pardon me, sir, but I won this auction fair and square and I fully intend to collect my prize.”

 

Sansa stepped closer and reached up to place one hand on the back of his neck. She pulled him down gently, and tilted her head just right. Their lips met politely at first, but them something seemed to have awoken in them. Sandor came out of his embarrassed stupor and wrapped his large arms around her, pulling her close. She could feel one large hand on her bare back, it was warm and somehow soft. Their lips continued to meet, over and over again. Things were getting a bit carried away, and the host noticed.

 

“Whoa, alright you two, get a room already!”  The crowd laughed, and Sandor and Sansa finally managed to pry their bodies apart from one another, but their eyes remained connected for a few more seconds. They exited the stage and sat at their assigned table. Sandor scooted his chair a bit so that they could sit closer to each other. At one point he took her hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it.

 

“Where did you get a thousand dollars?”

 

Sansa grinned. “Not paying rent has its advantages.”

 

The two of them spent the remainder of the evening stealing glances at one another. Occasionally Sandor would find an excuse to touch her hand, or her arm. Sansa pretended not to know it was intentional, but she knew.

 

By the end of the evening, Sansa was by all accounts drunk. When it was time to leave, Sandor picked her up as if she were a damsel in distress and carried her out to the car. She fell asleep during the drive home. Every once in awhile Sandor would steal a glance at her face in the moonlight. Something had changed between them that night. Although Sansa had won his kiss at the auction, he felt as if he was bringing home the biggest prize of all.


	6. Chapter 6

Sansa awoke with sore feet and a splitting headache. Sitting up, she saw that she was alone in her own bed. Good. She knew things had started to get a little physical with Sandor the night before, but after three glasses of champagne, she couldn’t remember much else. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she scurried over to the window and closed the curtains. The light was just making her throbbing headache even worse. Checking her phone, she saw it was time to head downstairs and start making breakfast.

 

When Sansa entered the kitchen in her pajamas, Sandor was already sitting at the table drinking a coffee and reading the newspaper. He looked up at her with a mischievous grin.

 

“Good morning. How are you feeling?”

 

Sansa groaned. “I’m okay. I don’t normally drink much. I hope I didn’t say or do anything embarrassing last night.”

 

“Well, there was the table dancing.”

 

Sansa gasped in shock and covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh my god, I didn’t. I didn’t!”

 

Sandor couldn’t keep in his amusement, he let out a hearty laugh. “No, you didn’t. I was only joking. Why don’t you get yourself some coffee, I made a whole pot.”

 

“You?  You made coffee?  Since when do you know how to do that?”

 

“I know how to do a lot of things that might surprise you.” He gave her a wink.

 

Sansa blushed. Sandor stood and walked to her, pulling her in close for a gentle hug. After a few seconds, he rested his hands on her shoulders. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

 

Sansa nodded. He took her by the hand and led her toward the newspaper covered glass doors. He slid the door open and pulled Sansa through, sliding the door shut behind her. Sansa couldn’t believe her eyes. She was standing inside of the biggest greenhouse she had ever seen. It was roughly the size of the entire first floor of Clegane Manor. There were roses as far as the eye could see, every color and variety. There were rare black roses, which she had never seen in person before. There were striped dragon roses, Osiria roses, tea roses, on and on the varieties went.

 

“Oh, Sandor. They’re wonderful.”

 

He brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed the back. “They’re yours.”

 

Sansa looked at him in shock. “What do you mean they’re mine?”

 

He sighed, then pointed toward a wooden bench that was in the center of the greenhouse. “Let’s have a seat.”

 

Sansa sat on the bench, and Sandor joined her. It just happened to be the perfect size to fit the both of them. She felt as if she should speak, but she didn’t know what to say.

 

Sandor could sense the confusion in her. He rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. “This is for you. This is your space. Your sanctuary. I want you to spend as much time in here as you like.”

 

Sansa managed a weak, “thank you,” before the tears began to fall. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his chest. When she sat up straight again, Sandor leaned in to kiss her, but she stopped him.

 

“I’m sorry.” Sansa stood and took off for the door, flinging it to the side. She ran up the stairs and into her room, crying the whole way. She was sobbing into a pillow on her bed when Sandor finally caught up with her.

 

“Sansa? What’s going on?” He walked into her room and sat beside her on the edge of the bed.

 

Sansa wiped at her tears with the sleeve of her pajama top. “I’m just so confused. I’m your housekeeper. The roses, they’re wonderful, but they’re not mine. They’re yours. If you fired me, it all goes away. I’d be homeless. Last night was wonderful, really, it was. But all I can think about is that the only reason you keep me around is because I take care of the house.”

 

Sandor’s head was down. He nodded a bit before responding. “You’re right. We should have had this conversation a long time ago. I’m such an arse.”

 

Sansa wiped at her face with both hands. “What conversation?”

 

“Sansa, you’re more to me than just a housekeeper. You don’t just take care of the house, you take care of me. You’ve made me enjoy life in a way that I never thought I could. I feel like a new man because of you.” He reached down and took her hand in his, rubbing the back with his thumb. “I’ve decided to fire you as my housekeeper, but I’m hoping you’ll stay, because you’re the woman I love, and I am going to take care of you.  I will always take care of you. You are never going to have to worry again about where you’re going to live or what you’re going to eat or how you’re going to get somewhere. You’re never going to have to worry about anything as long as I’m breathing. Does that sound like something you could live with?”

 

Sansa smiled and leaned her head on his arm. “Yes.” Cupping his face with one hand, she brought his head down so that his forehead  was resting against hers. “What did I do to deserve you?”

 

He exhaled, then his mouth formed a hard line. “It’s simple, really. You looked at me.”

 

Sansa wasn’t convinced. “Lots of people look at you.”

 

He stroked one of her cheeks with his thumb. “Yes, but you’re the only one who sees me.”

  


They remained on, and in, Sansa’s bed for most of the day. When they finally decided to come out for air, Sansa made them dinner while Sandor visited his office.  She was still chopping potatoes when he showed up at her side minutes later.

 

“I have something for you. I bought it a little while ago in the hopes that maybe someday...well.” He sank down to one knee and presented her with an open jewelry box. Inside was a platinum engagement ring with a huge emerald center stone flanked by two diamonds. He hadn’t even asked yet when she tackled him and they both fell laughing to the floor.

 

Six months later, they were married in a private ceremony inside their greenhouse. As a wedding gift for Sansa, Sandor ordered a new sign for the front gate. It now read, “Clegane Manor & Rose Garden.”


End file.
